


Friends of Friends (of Friends)

by hueue



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: LETS GO LESBIANS!!, Multi, Watching the Show, but y'all know im rubbing my tiny gay hands on this shit, come on lesbians, i live and die in 2007!!, tiny bisexual hands tbh but honestly? bye, yes! this is a watching the show fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 09:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16489817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hueue/pseuds/hueue
Summary: Okay, so, five quite urgent things:1) the door's locked2) there's no windows3) nobody knows how they got here4) where's the Doctor?5) the couches are very comfyand one very big, Oh No, Danger Zone thing:6) Doctor Who?





	Friends of Friends (of Friends)

**Author's Note:**

> HONESTLY GET OFF MY DICK  
> YES, I HAVEN’T UPDATED BACK IN TIME!  
> NO, I HAVEN’T WRITTEN SHIT!  
> DID I JUST WANNA WRITE ON OF THESE? Y E S  
> NO RULES, JUST RIGHT, MONSTER FACTORY  
> (THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BITFT, IM JUST A GREMLIN TRYING TO GET MY GAY HANDS ON ALL OF DW)

01

 

Bill’s breath caught in her throat, her knees buckling when her feet met the new surface. She exhaled sharply, leaning against a big brown couch which had quite suddenly appeared besides her. 

“Oh, jeez!” she exclaimed, placing a hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her swimming vision focused finally, showing her to be in a cozy looking room with a TV, two couches, a couple of beanbags, and a mound of pillows. It looked a lot like her friend Shireen’s dorm room back at St. Luke’s―full of soft, comfy things. This room differed from Shireen’s in a rather significant way: there was no door. No  _ exit _ really, however Bill had gotten in seemed to be the only way she was getting out. “Not good…” she whispered to herself.

Cautiously, she checked herself over for any bruising or cuts. Her memory of what had happened before she’d shown up was foggy at best, so who knew what the hell could of happened in that gap. But, despite her fear, she seemed completely fine. What about the Doctor, though? If he wasn’t with her, then where was he? 

“Doctor…?” she called, her voice only echoed off the wall, “Doctor!!” she tried again, strolling around the room. “Doct―” she flinched at the sudden sharp pop in her ear, like she’d just gone up in a plane. 

“Urgh…” 

Bill turned on the spot, facing two newcomers. A man and a woman, who looked human enough: the man with sandy hair and an expression of surprised mixed with acceptance and the woman with impossibly long legs and fiery orange hair. She looked at them, they looked at her. The woman pursed her lips, 

“Who are you?” she assumed the feeling of an intimidating police woman interrogating her, and even in her fun outfit of a garish hawaiian shirt and tiny shorts―she played the part well.

“Bill.” she answered, “Bill Potts.” she shifted, “You?”

The woman narrowed her eyes, Bill could almost feel the woman studying her from head to toe. Finally, she seemed to relax, just a bit, “Amy Pond.” 

“That’s a very nice name,” Bill offered, in an attempt to thaw some of the tension, “all storybook-ish.” 

That seemed to do both what she intended and the opposite. For a moment Amy’s features softened, then they returned back to stone. Bill inwardly sighed, she craned her head to see the man who had wandered off to inspect the room himself. “Hey!” she waved, “Who’re you?”

“Rory Williams.”

“Pond.” Amy interjected. 

“Pond.” Rory said. 

Bill raised an eyebrow then answered her own question by catching sight of the ring glinting on their fingers, “Oh! You’re together!” she stepped forward, “Married, I mean.” 

“Just got married.” Rory said, twisting the ring with a fond expression on his face, “Like…three days ago.”

“Oh, congrats!” 

Rory smiled, but Amy didn’t look relaxed by Bill’s praise, “Where is this then?”

Bill shrugged, “No idea. I just, uh, appeared here?” she gestured around, “Just like you.”

“Hm.” Amy strolled around the room, her slender legs making quick work of casing the room. “Rory? Any ideas?”

Her husband pulled a face, “I’d say that we’re dead.”

“What!?” Bill snapped, standing straight.

Amy waved her off, “He says that all the time.”

“Well, I’ve died like, what, seven times?”

“Eight.” Amy corrected, “Remember last week—with the Sontarans?”

Rory made a noise of recognition, “Right.” 

“How have you…” Bill’s eyebrows knitted together, “died? Eight times?” 

“Long story.” 

Again, the popping noise snapped in her ear; Rory and Amy flinched along with her. The noise cut off sharply, three more people were now in the room, disoriented and afraid. A woman and two men—the woman was black, as was one of the men: She had long braided hair and was dressed professionally but quite a bit of her outfit was torn. The man, who was holding her hand tight, was dressed rather similarly and had a stern, authoritative expression on his face. The last man was white, with a rather superhero face, windswept hair, and a long vintage-looking coat. The last thing she noticed gave her a shock—the man was pointing a gun at her. 

“AH!” Bill yelped, “Stop! Stop!” 

The man with the gun didn’t relent, “Where are we?” 

“We don’t know!” Rory exclaimed, pushing Amy behind him only to have her stand besides him, 

Amy sneered, her Scottish accent sent the words aflame, “We just popped up here too, dude!” 

The woman took the gun from the man’s hands, throwing it aside. Bill let out a sigh of relief, 

“Thank you.” she said, the woman reached out a hand,

“Martha Jones.” Martha Jones introduced with a winning smile. A tiny tug pulled at Bill’s mind―she’d heard that name before. Martha gestured behind her to the man dressed like her, “This is Mickey, my husband,” then to the now gun-less man, “and that’s Captain Jack Harkness.”

Bill shook her hand, trying her best to exude the message of ‘ _ please don’t point a gun at me again, please’ _ , “Bill Potts and that’s Amy and Rory Pond.” 

“So, you guys have no idea what’s going on either?” Mickey asked, his voice betrayed his facial expression. He reminded Bill of one of her classmates who frequently showed up late to the Doctor’s lectures who always talked as if he’d been caught red-handed doing something he shouldn’t have. 

The Doctor always smiled at that kid. 

“No clue.” Bill sighed, “We have a theory but it’s a bit morbid, so I’m happy to hear anybody else’s.” 

The other man, Captain Jack Harkness, took out a device that blinked and booped; Bill raised an eyebrow, it wasn’t the most sci-fi thing she’d ever seen but she wasn’t expecting to see something like that here. Jack moved the device around, a jingling tone sounded, and he clicked his tongue, “So, we’re all human…more or less.” 

_ American!  _ Bill thought, the gun pointing suddenly making more sense.

“More or less?” Rory echoed. 

“I’m talking about me, don’t worry.” Jack narrowed his eyes, “Ooh! That’s interesting…atron energy—on all of us.”

Amy walked over to peek over Jack’s shoulder, “What’s that?”

“Bits of stuff.” Jack explained, he tilted his head to look at Amy, “Funny thing is…you can only get atron energy from time-travelling so,” he raised an eyebrow, “where have  _ we _ been, Amy Pond?”

“You said it’s on all of us.” Amy countered, “Where have  _ you  _ been, Jack Harkness?” 

Jack smirked, Bill noticed Rory sigh behind her, “Married!” he chimed.

“I know, I know.” Amy joked, slipping away from Jack’s gaze, “But actually: time-travel? All of us have time-travelled?”

“Surprising?” Jack questioned. Amy shook her head, 

“No.” 

Bill perked up; literally none of her questions had been answered, they just kept getting bigger. She was keeping a little list of questions:

    1. Where is she?
    2. Why is she here?
    3. Where’s the Doctor?
    4. Rory’s died eight times?? Hello??
    5. Why’s Martha and Mickey's’ clothes all torn up?
    6. Where is she??
    7. Jack’s not completely human?? _Hello????_



 

  * __Where is she!!??__



 

  1. They’ve all time travelled?
  2. What do they have in common?



An idea sparked in her head: they were a group of human time-travellers, mostly from the UK from the sound of it, and (by the lack of serious freak-outs) seemed to be used to weird, possibly dangerous, situations. 

That seemed to tick all the boxes of a certain alien. Wonder if they knew him? 

“Hey, weird question, but do you guys―oh, jeez.” the popping sound was back, Bill plugged a finger in her ear and waited for it to end. Five people appeared, three looking much more spooked than the other two. There were three women and two men: Bill recognized none of them but by the gasp from Martha, Mickey, and Jack, they did.

“Donna!” Martha exclaimed, scooping up the older red-haired woman in a big hug that she returned,

“Martha!” Donna grinned, “Oh, it’s been too long!” 

Mickey and Jack just gaped at the other younger woman. She seemed rather young with dyed blonde hair and big tear-stained eyes, 

“Rose.” Mickey breathed, Donna pulled a shocked face.

“Mickey?” Rose’s already wide eyes widened even further, “Jack!?” 

“Rosie!” Jack swallowed Rose into a spinning hug all while she just looked at him in disbelief. 

“I thought you were dead!” she exclaimed once he set her down, “T-The Daleks got you!”

“Wha?” Jack tilted his head, “Whaddya mean?” 

“Satellite Five! The Daleks shot you!” 

He scoffed, “That was centuries ago, Rose Tyler! Me? Die? Come on.” he ruffled her hair, “Different timelines, then. So, you were on Satellite Five?”

She shook her head, “Just got off really, I was in the TA―”

_ “You’re Rose Tyler!?”  _ Donna exclaimed, all attention turned to her outburst, “Just when I think this day can’t get weirder!” 

Rose looked puzzled, “What do you…who are you?”   

“Donna. Donna Noble.” 

There was no recognition in Rose’s face; she looked around, wiping tears from her face. “Where is this?” 

“That’s why I’d like to know!” interjected a man with a Northern accent, he was black with close-cropped hair and was joined by an Indian woman with pinned up hair and an older white man wearing a striped scarf. “Where is this? Where are we? Who are you?”

The Indian woman took out a phone, “No signal.” she peered closer, “No time zone? What?” 

“I just wanted a moment’s rest, y’know?” the white man said, clearly irritated, “After a week like this, I thought I’d do with a rest!” 

Jack’s device beeped again, “Atron energy on you three, too?” he raised his eyebrows, “What’s your names?”

“Ryan.”

“Graham.”

“Yasmin―Yaz, to my friends.” 

“Ryan, Graham, Yasmin!” he aimed finger-guns at them, “Done any time-travelling lately?” 

The three blanched, “Wha-what?” Ryan sputtered. 

“Why?” Yasmin interjected. 

“Cause, all these people in the same place with atron energy on them? Gotta be a connection.”

Bill smiled knowing that she wasn’t alone in her reasoning. “I had a theory!” she announced. The growing group of people turned to her, “That was what I was trying to ask―do any of you know somebody called the Doctor?” Her question was effectively answered as their faces lit up, “Knew it!” 

“ _ You know the Doctor?! _ ” Amy gaped, “You  _ all  _ know the Doctor? How?” 

“Travelling.” they said in unison, in response they all shared suspicious looks.

“I had the feeling I wasn’t the first but…” Rose looked rather uncomfortable, “jeez.” 

Yet another piercing sound filled the air, Bill, nearly numb to it at this point, just waited for it to stop. It did, quite quickly, leaving another (and hopefully the last) pair of people. They were short, both with dark hair, and clasped each other’s hand like it was a lifeline.

“Hey.” Amy crossed her arms, “Cutting to the chase here, but do you two know the Doctor?” 

They’re faces showed recognition just the same, “Why?” asked the person with the longer hair.

“We all do.” Rory went on, “What’re your names?”

“Clara Oswald.” said the woman with the chin-length hair. 

“Ashildr.” said the other person, they turned on their heels, “There’s no exits.”

Bill nodded, “We know. We just appeared here, too.” 

“So…” Yasmin scratched her head, “how do we get out?” 

“I don’t think we’re supposed to.” Martha hypothesized, “Somebody wants us here…”

Donna shifted, “But for what?”  

Like magic, the TV across the room winked to life. A strangely ominus ‘play’ symbol hovering in the middle of the screen, 

“I say we start there.” Graham suggested; the group of captive converged on the seats around the TV, all staring with bated breath at the screen. 

“Somebody got the remote?” Mickey asked, getting comfy. 

“Right here, mate.” Ryan lofted the remote above his head, he pointed it at the screen, “Okay…1…2…3!” 

The screen went white, then a single word, a name really, appeared on the screen:

ROSE 

**Author's Note:**

> so uhhhh,,, comment! if you want!  
> also uh,, blease,, i don't plan to go in order of eps so suggest the eps you wanna see these gaggle of gays to react to


End file.
